


Three Thousand Six Hundred and Fifty Days, but Who's Counting?

by ourgirlfriday



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, high school reunion!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:26:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourgirlfriday/pseuds/ourgirlfriday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Erik and Charles' 10 year high school reunion. Back in the day, they were in love with each other, but secretly, and from afar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Thousand Six Hundred and Fifty Days, but Who's Counting?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Black_Betty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Betty/gifts).



> Secret Mutant Madness based on Black_Betty's prompt: It's Erik and Charles' 10 year high school reunion. Back in the day, they were in love with each other, but secretly, and from afar--Charles being younger than everyone, a prodigy genius, a nerd, and therefore a social pariah, Erik as the reluctant prom king, stoic captain of the football/soccer team and most popular boy in school...ten years later and Charles has finally grown into his looks and gained some confidence, and can't wait to show everyone (ERIK) how successful he is...but Erik dreads seeing Charles, certain that his job running his dad's rundown autoshop is not nearly enough to win him the man he can't seem to stop thinking about...
> 
> A great thanks to **Redacted** and **Redacted** for betaing.

“Ma! Hey, Ma, have you seen my suit jacket?” Erik stepped carefully over Lorna’s toys as he made his way down the long hallway to the kitchen, where his mother sat at their old table, spoonfeeding his daughter to Lorna’s great dismay. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen your suit jacket,” Edie groused as she chased Lorna’s pudgy face with a spoon loaded with unappetizing green mush. “I only ever see you in those filthy coveralls you wear to work. I’m shocked you’ve conceded to put on a nice shirt before we go to Synagogue.”

Erik bent low to press a kiss to Lorna’s shock of hair before bussing Edie’s cheek. “I know you’d sooner box my ears than let Rabbi Coen see me like that.”

Edie rolled her eyes as Lorna finally deigned to eat a bite. “At least _something_ works on you, stubborn boy. Is it that grey jacket? I haven’t seen it since--.” 

“I’m sure I’ve worn it since then” Erik interrupted. Discussing the divorce always led to a fight, and Erik didn’t have time for that. He was running late as it was. 

“Magda’s wedding, this past March, remember?” He doubted Edie could forget. It wasn’t every day that the blushing bride’s ex-husband walked her down the aisle, with their infant daughter, carried down the aisle by Magda’s mother, as Maid of Honor. Still, it had been a good ceremony. Lorna had adored the attention, and he was happy for Magda. It was good to see her happy. She deserved it.

“Have you checked the front closet?” Edie asked. Lorna chirped in with happy babbling interspersed with exclamations for kitteh. Erik smiled as the sounds followed him to the front hall where he found his jacket covered by layers of magenta childrenswear. 

“Why was it here?” he called back to the kitchen as he haphazardly threw the jacket on, not waiting for a response. He took a last look in the mirror before heading out, pleased to note that he looked good, or as good as he ever did these days. His never could get his hands fully clean after working on cars all day, and he’d long since given up on getting rid of the bags under his eyes, brought on by fussing over his ma and Lorna and trying to keep the shop afloat through sheer force of will. Still, it’d have to do. 

Besides, Xavier probably wouldn’t be there and he didn’t much care about impressing anyone else. He smoothed his hair down one last time before grabbing his keys and calling a goodbye to his mother and daughter. 

***

He’d meant to get a haircut before tonight. Of all the things to forget. Raven had teased him mercilessly the last time they’d spoken, certain that he’d get caught up in some data set or another and end up going to the reunion looking like an angry unkempt hippie. She’d even mailed him a fuchsia polyester shirt for the occasion. Looking in the mirror at his long, bedraggled hair, Charles had to admit it wasn’t out of place. It certainly would have been less incongruous thank his smartest tweed suit. 

Moira had offered to cut his hair on that last day, before they’d exited the biosphere for the first time in two years and promptly been swept up in analyzing findings and meeting with others (and, it cannot be denied, drinking all the tea and beer he could find). But he’d foolishly turned her down. He’d distrusted the scissors after Tony Stark’s third boredom-fueled experimentation utilizing all the sharp objects in the sphere, Dr. Richard’s socks, and Dr. Foster’s favorite mug. Really, after Jane found out what he’d done, it was a miracle they’d all survived to see the end, although it must be said that Dr. Von Doom was never the same after the incident with Dr. Banner, Dr. McCoy, and the noodles. He hoped the man got help; his late-stage tendencies towards tyranny were unfortunate, to say the least. 

Charles’s stomach rolled as he wondered if Erik Lehnsherr would be in attendance. He’d not seen the man in ten years. 

Granted, there was no reason to see him. They’d never really known each other, and it was unlikely that Erik had even thought of him, well. Ever. Erik had better things to do than notice a quiet nerd hiding in the library and watching him practice soccer from the stands. Still, Charles couldn’t say he wasn’t still curious about the man he’d worshiped from afar all those years ago. 

It had very little to do with the fact that he’d finally grown into himself and, as determined by unanimous vote on the Night That Shall Never Be Mentioned In Any Report, I’m Serious Guys, he was Most Fuckable Scientist in the Biosphere. Even Tony agreed. Not that anything happened post-vote. Lord no. 

Oh well, he thought. He’d just have to wing it, hair and all. It was a small price to pay for the experience of the biosphere. And besides, after being stuck in an enclosed space for two years with Tony and Bruce, he could handle anything. 

Except for being stuck in an enclosed space for two more years with Tony and Bruce, of course 

***

It was a good crowd. Erik nodded at the Summers brothers over his soda. They’d kept to the area as well, and Alex occasionally invited him over for poker, although he’d only taken them up on it a few times. Scott ran the nearest hardware store, and they’d helped each other out more than once for trade. 

Erik sometimes wished things had been different after graduation, but he’d needed to be there for his mama and someone had to run the garage, and he knew the business better than anyone, after spending all his summers helping out for a healthy allowance. He’d meant to apply to schools after everything got settled, but then Magda’d suggested they get married, and Edie’d gotten sick, and then Magda was pregnant. And then they’d divorced and it was ten years later. 

He recognized fewer faces than he’d anticipated. He’d kept in contact with Emma Frost, and knew she wouldn’t be caught dead showing her face at any sort of reunion. He didn’t see Sean Cassidy anywhere. He hadn’t seen Cassidy since the whole thing with the satellite dish. It would have been nice to catch up. 

He was about to give up and head home when he noticed him through a shift in the crowd. Xavier. Charles Xavier, brightest student the school’d ever seen, according to Edie, who heard it straight from the Principal’s secretary. Erik had spent all of senior year alternating between wanting to get up the nerve to talk to the strange, quiet boy, and hating himself for being interested in someone who was almost still a child. After all, Xavier had barely been a teenager at graduation. He’d be barely 25 now, though Erik had followed Charles’s post high school career closely enough to know that they’d been a busy ten years. 

Erik couldn’t stop himself from approaching the crowd. Charles was -- beautiful. He always was, but it was different, now. Instead of being a whisp of a boy, he’d broadened appealingly. His ginger beard was unexpected but not unwelcome, and his eyes were bright and danced in the light. His lips were. Well. His lips were very distracting. 

He could use a haircut though. 

“Erik!” Charles called as their eyes met. Erik’s stomach tingled as he broke into the crowd. Xavier seemed delighted to see him, as if they’d been great friends instead of barely acquaintances. Erik felt low and dirty, hiding his stained fingertips in clenched fists. For the first time since he saw the he wondered what he could possibly say to someone like Charles Xavier? 

“Well, Erik Lehnsherr,” a less welcome voice echoed. Of course Sebastian Shaw would come. Of course. 

“Hello, Sebastian,” he replied icily. It was hard to suppress the urge to bear his teeth at the man. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Charles stare between them bemusedly. 

“You remember Erik Lehnsherr, don’t you, Charles?” Shaw said as he moved closer to Xavier. Shaw had always been good at sniffing out people he thought could help them, and ever since graduation Erik hadn’t seen hide nor hair of his supposed friend. Emma had let him know that, to Shaw at least, Erik’s life was a great joke. The prom king and soccer star, now running a garage? Apparently Shaw found the whole thing hilarious. 

“Of course I remember Erik,” Charles answered, confusion heavy in his voice. “It was hard not to notice you, Erik.” That was aimed directly at him, and Erik felt a pleasurable jolt as Charles Xavier, Westchester’s favorite son, shot him a cheeky wink. He felt a smirk break across his face at Shaw’s resulting sour expression.

“Yes,” Shaw all but spat. “Well, Erik’s done quite well for himself, haven’t you? Have you heard he runs the town garage? You must remember how glamorous Eisenhart’s Autos was.” 

Before Erik could respond, Charles unleashed an arctic glare that would even impress Edie. Shaw stepped back at its vehemence, and the crowd around them quickly found themselves busy doing anything but observing the growing discomfort. 

“Yes, Sebastian. I do remember Eisenhart’s Autos. I remember Jacob was always very kind to me and my sister when we’d need assistance. I remember how hard he worked. And I am sure Erik is doing splendidly. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to catch up with someone who understands the value of kindness, and work.” With that, Charles, Charles Xavier who used to be unable to say ‘boo’ to a goose, took Erik by the arm and led him away. 

“So,” Erik said, mostly to fill the awkward silence. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, my friend,” Charles mumbled as a blush colored his cheeks. “You must think I’m terribly rude, you and Sebastian were close if I remember.” 

“‘Was’ is the keyword there. We haven’t been close in ages. And honestly, I’m impressed. Even Ma would be shut down by that glare.”

Charles blushed again. “Well, one must develop these skills when spending extended time locked in with Tony Stark and Victor Von Doom.” 

“I suppose. You didn’t have to, by the way--”

“Nonsense. You. You wouldn’t mind getting out of here, maybe grabbing a coffee, would you?” Charles’s eyes shone with hope, and Erik smiled, fully at that. 

“I’d love to. But I can’t. Ma’s watching Lorna, and I have to get home early.”

“Lorna?”

“My daughter.” Erik went to grab his wallet to show off his girl, but caught Charles’s falling expression. Well, that wouldn’t do at all. “I split custody with her mom. But if you’re still in town, I’ll be free this weekend.” 

Charles smiled widely and stepped into Erik’s space with a leer of intent. “That would work. Do you have any objections to me seeing you properly home, then?”

“Not at all,” Erik answered, feeling lighter than he had in years. “If you’re a gentleman, I might even give you a kiss.” He felt emboldened enough to grab Charles’s hand as they exited to the parking lot. 

***  
EPILOGUE

“Ma! Hey, Ma, have you seen my suit jacket?” Erik stepped over Lorna’s toys as he made his way down the long hallway to the kitchen, where his mother sat at their table, getting Lorna ready for her second turn as flower girl. 

“It’s in our closet,” Charles called from the living room. “Hurry up, the limo’ll be here any minute, and I’m not about to be late to our own wedding.”

Edie shot him a wry look as he ran back down the hall, nearly colliding with Raven in her slinky blue bridesmaid dress. His phone buzzed with a text; Magda was threatening to take sappy pictures in revenge for his roll from her wedding. 

“You ready to do this, “Charles murmured in his ear as he pulled Erik into his arms from behind. 

“Let’s find out,” Erik answered. They ignored Lorna’s indignant calls and the impatient honk from the car outside. After all, their wedding couldn’t start without them.


End file.
